A Good Cup of Welsh Morning
by Katrina Green Eyes
Summary: Jean-Luc and Beverly travel to LaBarre to reaffirm the status of their relationship and try to patch things up a bit after Ba'ku. POST-INSURRECTION.


A Good Cup of Welsh Morning

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Paramount. If I owned these lovely people I wouldn't need to bother writing fics about them they would already be together!

Author's note: This is the first fic I have ever gotten around to posting and I have really been procrastinating about it. Someday I might even get around to writing more of it...

He sat back in his chair, a silent observer, watching every move she made, every honest thank you, the way she smiled, the way she laughed. He had been such a fool. How could he have thought his feelings for Anij could replace this. He could blame it all on the fact that the feelings of his younger self had been exposed and for most of his young life he had had to bury his feelings for Beverly. The only problem with that was that he knew it was untrue and he was bad at lying, even to himself. Honestly he had been scared, hurt and to be fair a little angry. He had wanted to show her how much it hurt to watch someone you love choose someone else. To move on. Looking back now, when he could actually think straight, he saw that had been the worst thing he could do. How would she ever trust him with her heart if he ran off and kissed the first pretty girl that came his way? He stared into his now tepid cup of Welsh Morning, not caring that he had wasted a cup of excellent tea.

She walked into Ten Forward glancing around, noting who was there. She found him sitting alone at a table, a cup of tea in his hands. Him and his tea. It had been one of the things she had first found personal and endearing about the captain. He had been Jack's best friend since Starfleet Academy, but while Jack had been alive he had always seemed a bit sanitized, his personality glossed over. It had only been later after Jack's death that she had begun to see the subtle things that made Jean-Luc Picard the man he was. The tea had been one of the first things. Jack had never been much of a tea drinker and it wasn't a commonly served drink in the 24th century. At first she had raised her eyebrows, such a modern man drinking an old-fashioned drink? He had slowly introduced her to a totally new realm. Jade teas, Earl Grey, Irish breakfast, Welsh morning. He always had a whiff of tea about him, and over the years she had learned to distinguish one scent from another. His tea reflected his mood; it helped her read the person behind that stoic face. She had never suspected it coming, for no one she knew considered tea an aphrodisiac, but she now found it quite the turn on.

He seemed very lonely today, staring into his cup of tea. Choking down the twisting ache in her heart from Ba'ku, she walked to his table. She had set the limit of their relationship at best friends (although she now longed for more) and had no intention of letting it retrogress further.

"May I sit here?" He glanced up startled to see the subject of his contemplation standing right in front of him. He snapped the automatic facade over his face; a mask perfected after years of watching his best friend married to the woman he was in love with.

"Of course," She saw him close up as soon as he saw her and even his friendly tone and sweeping gesture didn't stop a new crack from creeping through her heart. She slowly sat down and inhaled the air. Ahhh, Welsh morning. That usually meant one of two things. A: he was having close friends/family over for a comfortable evening. Or B: he was reminiscing about the past and the family and friends he had lost. This could only be the latter. A quick look told her that his tea was now only lukewarm and the orange marmalade on his toast was congealed. She scanned his face searching for, well anything that would tell

what was wrong. He never let his tea get cold.

He scanned her face as she scanned his. There were slight worry lines about her mouth and her complexion told him she hadn't been sleeping well. What he read there raised concern in his mind, but moreover left him wondering. He would never be so arrogant to presume that her emotional distress was caused by him;

he couldn't mean that much to her. Finally their eyes met and they held each others gaze for a time. A sudden laugh ringing out caused them both to break their gaze away to see what had happened. Deanna and Will had entered arm in arm and she was clearly laughing at some joke he had made. Beverly brought his

attention back to the table when she let out an amused laugh. He raised his eyebrows and she laughed again and shook her head.

"I just think that its wonderful that those two finally saw what had been there all along. They may have made mistakes in the past, but they managed to grow up and still maintain the link they have to one another. It is a sight that  inspires hope in even the most desperate hearts." Her voice remained kind and

friendly, but held nothing to indicate anything deeper than the face value of her words.

"They deserve to be happy. Both of them have had their bad times and made some hard choices, but in the end love prevails." Jean-Luc laughed at his own words. "Listen to us. We sound like a bad 21st century love novel." They both broke into laughter, clearing the simmering tension that had clung to the air.

"I have heard that they were quite popular when they were written. Everyone needs to be silly and frivolous now and again. Surely you have read the kind of books that are just plain fluff. Romance, adventure, magic..." Beverly mused, the conversation leaving the precarious lands of reality and sojourning into the

realm of pure fancy.

"Ahh, but you are leaving out the most important thing. A likable and altogether perfect hero. I think we have all indulged in such giddy pastimes. It is often reading, but it can also be certain types of music, or even dance. They are our deep shameful secrets; hiding in dark corners rarely seeing the light of our

companion's company." He had always enjoyed the art of word play. A verbal sparring sharpened one's mind and foraged a deep bond that he and Beverly had now shared for many years.

She opened her mouth to continue when her commbadge cut her off.

"Sickbay to Crusher." She rolled her eyes and replied.

"Crusher to Sickbay."

"There was an accident in engineering and you and your knowledge of burns are needed."

"I'm on my way. Crusher out." Beverly sighed and prepared to leave.

"Breakfast tomorrow perhaps?" Jean-Luc asked, not wanting to let moment pass. She smiled at his invitation, which slowly warmed his heart, better than any tea had ever done.

"I wouldn't miss it." He nodded, winked and they headed out together, she going her way and he going his.

Beverly sat in her office in sickbay, her patients taken care of: now she only had to deal with her own mental turmoil. On Ba'ku she had made two painful discoveries. First, she had realized that she wouldn't, no couldn't live with Jean-Luc as just a friend. Watching him with Anij ripped her heart to shreds. Not that she had anything against the woman personally, she had seemed kind, devoted to her people and undeniably beautiful. But to see how tender, gentle and companionable Jean-Luc could be when he was allowed to love a woman, had made her heart feel like a fine china plate hurtling through the air towards a

heavy brick wall. That was her second discovery. Jean-Luc Picard had recovered from whatever pain her refusal to love him had brought and moved on. She hadn't valued what she had until she lost it.

God, how cliché could she get? Here she was a capable, successful adult, mooning over a guy! What would Deanna think of her! Not that Deanna would be thinking of her. Lately the empath had things other than her best friend on her mind. _'I am so lame, sinking into self pity like this. I may have lost Jean-Luc as a love interest, but I still have him as a friend, which is more than a lot of people can say.'_

She began to wonder when she had started to see him as more than 'Captain' or the man who had been her late husband's best friend. The tea had opened her eyes, but it wasn't the thing that had kept them open. Seeing him provide a father figure unknowingly to Wesley when he needed it or witnessing how much he

cared for his crew, his ship and even innocent people he had never laid eyes on. He was well read and surprisingly interested in the past, drinking real alcohol and reading real books.

And perhaps most importantly, he was human. He needed reassurance now and then that he had done the right thing. He made mistakes; he cried. He hid this aspect of himself and she had often overlooked it, finding it easier to just believe the facade he put forth to the world and despising the cold, arrogant man that

dwelt in that lie.

He had been reluctant to yield to her and put down that mask even when she did make the effort. Glimpses had flashed before her, tempting her, even from their first encounter on the Enterprise. Wesley's first visit to the bridge... she smiled fondly in memory. Jean-Luc had blown hot and cold, caught between

himself. She still wasn't sure what had caused his turmoil then. They didn't have much of a history at that point, and yet something in his eyes when he looked at Wesley had always seemed like something more than remembering Jack. Could he have- no she couldn't even think it. And yet it persisted nagging at

her mind something she had never really stopped to consider before; he had loved her even when she was married to his best friend. She realized now that it made him despise himself and his heart. He shut a part of himself down and refused to betray his best friend and all he held dear knowing that it would cost him greatly. He had suffered in silence and then when he finally had the opportunity and the courage to approach her she had shut him out, scared for her own heart, when for years she had been strangling his. Beverly finally broke down, for the first time since Ba'ku; hot tears leaving scalding trails down her cheeks. The door slid open and a startled Deanna looked in. She had been coming to giggle and have a girl to girl chat with her best friend, only to discover that friend sobbing into her desk. It seemed that heart to heart was more urgent than she thought.

She gathered the other woman in her arms and rocked her softly as she tried to calm her.

Picard sat in his ready room staring blankly into space. The sound of someone clearing their throat startled him. Looking up quickly he eyed the impatient face of his first officer.

"Is there something wrong, Number One?" Picard used the formalities as a shield around himself; a security blanket of sorts.

"Sir, could we please drop the formalities?" Jean-Luc knew Will was really asking if they could talk as friends: as equals.

"Of course. Was there something specific you wished to discuss?" Picard knew that Will had some idea that something was up, but he desperately desired to prolong this moment before such a crash to the fullest extent; he was milking it for all it was worth.

"Please. Out with it already. You were distant and distracted on the bridge. I come in here and you are staring off into space doing nothing. Don't give me this crap. You are the one who should be telling me something." Obviously Will had other ideas. Jean-Luc gestured for him to sit and sighed.

"I've made a horrible mistake. And in doing so I hurt someone I love very much. I am not sure I can ever fix it, but if I don't I am not sure I can live with myself. I don't think I can live without her. I never realized how truly alone I was until now." Will studied the face of his captain, his friend, unsure who was talking about: Anij or Beverly? No matter, he had but one piece of honest advice whoever this might be.

"Talk to her," Jean-Luc looked up startled again. "Tell her the truth. Whatever happened is in the past, but you can still tell that you are sorry and that you love her. If you let it go you may never get another chance to fix it." The two men's eyes met and they were truly equals; one friend learning from his own

mistakes and preventing another from repeating them and reliving that pain. They clasped hands and no words were spoken. None were needed, all the thanks that was necessary was held clearly in the look the two officers had shared. They turned and headed back out onto the bridge immediately resuming their positions of Captain and First Officer.

Deanna left sickbay frustrated and concerned. Beverly had refused to tell her anything. She had sensed regret, pain and somewhere muddled in all that baggage love, but she couldn't quite ponder it all into one situation. Beverly had avoided her questions and at the first sign of a patient, thrown her out of sickbay. Deanna, surprised, proceeded down the corridor, deep in thought and looked up suddenly when she bumped into someone.

"Will! I am so sorry, I was busy thinking." She was relieved that it was him and she didn't have to feel too embarrassed. She hesitated then asked him,

"Have you noticed anything lately with Beverly?" He raised his eyebrow at her begging her to be more specific. She fell into step beside him and continued.

"I went to have a casual talk with her and I found her in tears. She wouldn't tell me a thing." Will began to pick his brain, finally landing on the abstract conversation he had with Jean-Luc this morning..._"I've made a horrible mistake... hurt someone I love..."_ He was hesitant to relinquish this fragment to Deanna knowing she would pounce on it and go on a mad matchmaking crusade. And yet, they had finally sorted out all the misunderstandings between the two of them; he didn't want to start keeping things from her now, tarnishing his recently clean slate.

"Well, I had a strange talk this morning with Jean-Luc. He was worried that he had hurt someone he loved when he made a mistake." Will put a finger to Deanna's lips as she opened them to protest.

"No Deanna. I told him to talk to her. They need to sort this out on their own. They are capable adults, who have known each other for many years. In the end we found each other all on our own didn't we?" She nodded, abashed, his finger still to her lips.

"I'll make a deal with you," He offered mock generously. She arched one delicate eyebrow intrigued.

"We will be docking for repairs soon and we will all have a few weeks leave. When we return if they still haven't sorted things out, then you can interfere. Agreed?" She nodded obediently, realizing the truth in what Will had said.

"Now personally, I would much rather plan what we are going to be doing those weeks of shore leave." He smiled teasingly and bent down to kiss her passionately. She broke away smiling, catching his had and dragging him away, to, well, _plan!_

Jean-Luc sat in his quarters that evening, pondering what Will had said. He knew his first officer was right, that he should talk to her, but he also knew that he needed to make sure it was in the right time and place. Now the question was where and when was that? He had already ruled out telling her immediately, or even on the ship at any time. If things didn't go well he did not want either of them to be constantly haunted by the memory. That essentially left shore leave as his only option, but where? San Francisco was chalk full of not only other Star Fleet officers, but memories of Jack. LaBarre. yes, that would be perfect. He needed to go there anyway to look at the house, since Marie was leaving and he hated the idea of being there alone. He had never shown any of his crew his home in France; yet just the thought of Beverly in that house made his heart flutter. now he simply had to get her there. He sipped his wine and tried to strategize as he had so many times in the past, when thousands of lives hung in the balance. Now only two lives would be deeply affected (or so he thought), but human nature was turning out to be a much more fickle opponent than even the Borg had ever been.

As Beverly walked towards Jean-Luc's quarters uncharacteristically nervous. They had been breakfasting together for years, that is until Ba'ku. She took a deep breath and rang the door chime. He's your best friend, chill! The door opened and Jean-Luc stood almost eagerly n the other side. He gestured her inside

cordially and they sat down to their usual breakfast. The silence held for a few seconds and their eyes met. Then Jean-Luc began a safe ad calming conversation about mundane matters of the crew. they had soon settled back into their comfortable friendly ere, and yet although Beverly was relieved, it was changed

at least in her mind and it was no longer all she needed. As they talked and laughed (somewhat nervously) she memorized every detail his face, his hand movements, his voice, his eyes; someday he would be gone and she was desperate to hold on to this moment. Save it all away in her mind to relive it over and over again when he was no longer here beside her.

They proceeded through breakfast still slightly unbalanced. the only comforting aspect was the familiar coffee and croissants; such awkward companionship between then was as foreign as any species they had encountered in their travels. As they lapsed yet again into silence, albeit this pause was more

friendly than the former pause.

Sipping his tea in an effort to appear calm and composed, Jean-Luc observed her carefully as he had done for years. He noted the grace of her features and the unconscious dance her eyes performed as they took in the world. Finding a familiar rush of friendship and love as he resumed what had become a morning

ritual as comforting as their breakfasts, he finally relaxed, sinking back slightly in his chair. He closed his eyes for a moment; composing what he wanted to say, in his head. His thoughts once again in place, he opened his eyes and met hers squarely.

The quiet that had followed their small talk had allowed Beverly to probe even more deeply as she surveyed Jean-Luc. She felt his search her face, her eyes, for something, as he had at each of their morning meetings. He must have found what he was looking for, for he relaxed into his chair closing his eyes for an

instant. His hands had also relaxed their hold on his tea cup and Beverly was no longer concerned that his vice-like grip might shatter the delicate porcelain. Something changed in that instant and Beverly found that she too had been released from her worries. Jean-Luc had reopened his eyes and their gazes met. It was clear he meant to speak of something important, and Beverly had every intention of listening.

"Beverly... I have found that we have been, well, drifting apart and I would greatly like to rectify the situation. We have a few weeks of shore leave coming up and I was planning on spending it in LaBarre. My sister-in-law has recently moved to Paris and I would like to sped time on the estate and arrange for its

care while I am away. I would love your company there if, of course, you have not already made other plans." Jean-Luc's voice was rich and almost formal sounding, like a properly aged wine served at a fine banquet. And Beverly detected a hint of nervousness and a distinct tint of caring in it. Her answer to this invitation held great emotional sway over them both, and as he had made the first step forward she would have to determine where the second step led.

Beverly's heart had raced when he mentioned their relationship. His guilt over what had happened was clear to her and it touched her deeply. The fact that he had made such an effort to leave our exact relationship with each other undefined, he had never called them friends, gave her hope, and she made sure to do the same in her reply.

"Jean-Luc, I would love to spend leave with you at LaBarre. I too feel we haven't been spending much time together and I have always wanted to go to France." Beverly smiled brightly and reached out to cover his hand with her own. She had been convinced that he would spend his leave with Anij and yet here he

was asking her.

"Well in that case, maybe we should got to Paris instead." Jean-Luc teased, a twinkle in his eyes. Beverly laughed and replied slightly more seriously,

"That is in no way necessary. What better way to get to know a country than to spend time in the more rural areas and meet the real people." He smiled, a relaxed and completely smile and breakfast continued, as they returned to the verbal sparring they had engaged in for 20 years.


End file.
